2 a.m.

I'm trying to look at the positives these days.  You know, dwell less on the empty of half of my glass (the part I more than likely spilled, cause I'm just that kinda girl...).  And so I find myself, the chronically sleep deprived mama, awake at 2 a.m., with an annoying recent bout of insomnia, attempting to see the good.

It's so deliciously quiet, I can hear the clock ticking.  I snuggled with my love deprived cats and revelled in their purring bodies.  I saw the moon.  I trolled for poetry on-line and found one so positively lovely that it made me teary (and I am not that kinda girl...).  I knit.  I sat perfectly still and stared into space.   There are no plaintive requests (demands) for my time, energy, body.  It's just mine.  My thoughts (jumbled though they may be), my energy (however dwindled and dwindling still), my time (always fleeting).   

 

So 2 a.m., right now I think you're pretty swell.  

In two hours, when I am awakened (and it's bound to be pretty rude), I suspect I may feel differently.